


Stay

by raykkenoha



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alcohol, Ambiguous Mpreg, Domestic Fluff, Fluffy Ending, Getting Together, Harry Potter Next Generation, I Titled This After a Song, I'm Bad At Titles, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Minor Pansy Parkinson/Ron Weasley, No Idea Where This Came From, Post-Deathly Hallows AU, Some Plot, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, mild frottage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-21
Updated: 2015-11-21
Packaged: 2018-05-02 15:14:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5252981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raykkenoha/pseuds/raykkenoha
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Draco Malfoy got drunk eight times, Harry Potter took him home each one of them.<br/>{Or... Draco likes Harry and pretends to be drunk so that Harry takes him home.}</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stay

The first time it happened, Harry Potter was tipsy, wandering around the Ministry and trying to get out of the limelight.

He had already given a speech (written by Hermione, of course), talked to ‘important people’ and  _seventh wheeled_  for his friends until he was bored and decided to hide away at the bar. Hiding away at the bar was fine until Romilda Vane, of all people, emerged from her place in hell and tried to buy him a drink and dance with him.

That was the time when he politely got up and went to the toilet. The thing is, Harry wasn’t sure of where were the toilets, so he ended up lost in one of the dark corridors of the Ministry.

He ended up finding two people walking towards the opposite way. Blaise Zabini, who looked sober, and Draco Malfoy who was muttering and gesturing widely, his cheeks were red and eyes glazed, probably because of alcohol.

Malfoy was so absorbed on his incoherent ramblings that he ended up bumping on Harry.

“Fuck!” He said loudly, and then focused his eyes on Harry. “Potter?” He slurred.

Harry nodded. Malfoy cocked his head to the side and closed his eyes slowly.

“Oh, shit,” Zabini swore under his breath, taking his arm away from Malfoy’s waist and putting both hands on the man’s shoulder, shaking him slightly.

“Shhh,” Malfoy grumbled, “’m sleepy”

“What happened to him?” Harry asked curiously, when Zabini tried to awake Malfoy again.

“He got drunk and hit his head on the bathroom sink,” the dark man answered, “I am afraid he might have some sort of concussion,” he looked at his watch and snorted. “Bloody Draco, Daphne will murder me”

“Oh,” Harry said, sobering up a bit. “I can take him home, if you want”

Zabini turned to face him for the first time since their encounter, his eyes flaring with suspicion.

“I won’t harm him,” Harry asserted. “Never heard of my hero-complex? I can’t kill people, didn’t even use an Unforgivable in Voldemort,” he bitterly joked.

Zabini cringed a bit at the name, and then scoffed with resignation.

“Fine,” he said and after giving Malfoy a concerned glance, he left.

Harry put his arm awkwardly around the blond man’s torso and led him to an Apparition point near the elevators, asking himself why he would want to help the blond git.

“It’s better than staying at this bloody function,” he muttered after apparating to Grimmauld Place and putting Malfoy carefully on his bed, “why would people want to commemorate this bloody date?” He asked himself while he took off Malfoy’s shoes and then put a comfortable red blanket over the Slytherin’s lithe body. Then he turned off the lights and cast a Silencing Charm around his bedroom before going to his drawing room.

Harry sighed and sat down on the sofa in front of the fireplace, it was exactly one year after the war. Instead of mourning in silence with the very welcome company of alcohol, he had to attend to this bloody function.

He understood why his presence was important, especially now that the Ministry was suffering great changes. He, his friends and even his former ‘enemies’ (the Slytherins) were helping to rebuild the British Wizarding World.

However, he still suffered from the nightmares, and still saw the faces of those who sacrificed themselves for the greater good.

“It has been one year,” he said sullenly, absent-mindedly putting his hand on his chest “it should’ve stopped aching.”

He summoned a thin blanket and a pillow, letting the sad thoughts aside and wondering how Malfoy would feel when he woke up to find himself in Harry Potter’s house.

***

Harry actually did not have to wonder how Malfoy would feel, because when he woke up the blonde-haired man was still sound asleep on his bed.

After some moments arguing with himself, he decided to go out and let Kreacher deal with Malfoy.

Kreacher was all but excited to deal with Mr. Malfoy, and when Harry arrived, the elf happily welcomed him with treacle tart and a note from Malfoy.

  
x~x

_Potter,_

_I do not recall how I ended up at your nonsensically crimson bed. I could apologize if I did something to you that requires an apology, but if I did, I probably do not regret it. Kreacher took great care of me, by the way, nice elf you got yourself._

_I hope I never have to write this again, but here it goes:_

_Thank you. For everything._

_Draco Malfoy._

x~x

Harry would never admit it, but he smiled at the note. He was so astonished that he decided to put the note in plain view on his muggle fridge.

***

The second time it happened, it was in Hogwarts, at the Eighth and Seventh years’ Graduation Party.

Harry did not return for Hogwarts after the war, but Hermione did. Also did Draco Malfoy.

He was looking for Malfoy in the Marauders’ Map after he saw the blond leaving discreetly from the Great Hall with a suspicious bottle in his hands.

“Who are you looking for?” Ron asked after devouring a big portion of fried chicken.

“Malfoy,” Harry answered absent-mindedly before cursing himself inwardly. “I am just curious,” he said before Ron or Hermione — who was sitting on his other side, listening attentively — could say anything.

“You don’t honestly think Draco is up to something, do you?” She asked and Ron raised an eyebrow at her, “He is a better person now,”

“He could be faking it all, you know,” the red-haired said, “it could all be a part of his master plan to get inside your knickers,” he joked.

Hermione snorted, “Like the one Parkinson supposedly had when you slept with her?”

Harry rose his head and looked back and forth between his two best friends. Ron’s face got as red as his hair, and he grimaced slightly.

“That’s why you two broke up?” Harry asked.

“No, not really,” Hermione looked abashed, “there were lots of things to do after the war, and I came to Hogwarts, you two went into Auror training and we just...”

“We lacked passion,” Ron said bluntly and Hermione agreed.

“And Ron here has the hots for a snake now,”

Ron snorted and Hermione chuckled.

“And you?” Harry asked the woman.

“I am fine with being by myself,” she smiled, “I don’t think I am ready for a relationship,”

Harry nodded, contemplating how his two best friends had grown up in the last year. They were not even at their twenties, but the war made them grow up and get wiser.

“How did you end up sleeping with Parkinson, of all people?” Harry asked Ron.

“It was on the Ministry Function,” Ron said, staring at his pumpkin juice. “We started talking because of Hermione,” Ron glared at the aforementioned woman, who only shrugged, “I got drunk, and Parkinson got drunk… When I woke up, I was at my cubicle in the Auror Headquarters, laying on the floor, all sticky and dishevelled. Parkinson was half under me, and her panties were on my chair.”

Hermione and Harry grimaced.

“Too much information, mate,” Harry chided.

“I still think it was a plan,” Ron said, “why, in Godric’s name, would Parkinson want to fuck with  _me_?”

“Language, Ronald!” Hermione complained and Ron rolled his eyes.

“Maybe she has a thing for gingers,” Harry said and returned his attention to the Map, finding Malfoy’s name in a hidden alcove near the Great Hall. “Gotta go,” he said before getting out of his seat and going to find Malfoy.

When he found Malfoy, the blond was drinking the mead directly from the bottle, his eyes were closed and he was sitting on the floor, resting his head on the wall.

“Hey,” Harry said.

Malfoy opened his eyes sluggishly, the grey eyes were hazy but he seemed to recognize the Gryffindor.

“Hey, Potter,” he sneered and then laughed at himself. He held the bottle up, offering it to Harry. “Want some mead?”

Harry shook his head and sat down by Malfoy’s side.

The Slytherin stared at him for a moment before giving in to a fit of giggles.

“Aren’t you scared of being seen with the  _wrong sort_ , Potter?” Malfoy asked with a smirk before drinking another large gulp from his bottle.

“If I remember correctly,” Harry said with a grin, “I told you long time ago that I can tell who the wrong sort are for myself, thank you very much”

Malfoy sniggered, distractedly leaning closer to Harry.

“Very well, Potter,” he said and laid his head on the Gryffindor’s shoulder, sighing somewhat contentedly.

 _I must be imagining things_ ; Harry thought to himself and leaned his head on Malfoy’s.

Malfoy had to angle the bottle in a strange way to drink, but he did not move away. He finished his drink and put the bottle at his side, his fingers brushed Harry’s thigh, which made the Gryffindor’s breath hitch only the slightest.

After some minutes, Malfoy’s breath took a steady rhythm, and Harry looked at the man.

He was sleeping, his expression was peaceful and a lock of his blondish-white hair was over his reddened cheek. Harry’s hand itched to put that lock of hair behind the blonde’s ear and touch that beautiful cheekbone, then outline those thin pink lips that were slightly parted.

Harry blushed and looked away, and then he put his arms around Malfoy and — with the wards bended for him — easily apparated to Grimmauld Place.

“Master is soon,” Kreacher admonished, looking at Harry who was struggling to get up from the floor and move the  _slightly_ taller man.

“It was boring,” Harry muttered, and then he realized one thing. “I am a bloody wizard,” he said before levitating Malfoy to the bed.

“Prepare the guest room for me, please,” Harry asked before covering Draco Malfoy’s sleeping form with Gryffindor red blankets.

Kreacher mumbled something under his breath that Harry didn’t care to understand, and then left to follow his master’s orders.

x~x

_Potter,_

_You should have realized by now that I do not look good in red. Please, if I ever end up in your bed again, let me coverless._

_Draco Malfoy._

x~x

Harry giggled when he saw the note Malfoy left with Kreacher, before his face got red with images of Draco Malfoy not only uncovered, but also unclothed. He felt his blood flow to his groin and decided to put the note with the other on his fridge.

Harry was just leaving the kitchen when he heard the sound of someone flooing in.

“Harry?” he heard Hermione’s voice and went to the drawing room. “Hello,” she smiled softly and hugged him.

“Hi,” he said with a kind smile, “what brings you here?”

“I have news,” she said, “great news”

Harry raised an eyebrow.

“I was hired to work at the Department of Law Enforcement!” she exclaimed, a happy grin playing on her lips.

“Congratulations!” he said and hugged her again, “I am very happy for you!”

They talked a bit about the Ministry and the future, Hermione sounding very excited about it all.

“So,” she said a bit flustered, and Harry was having a bad feeling about what she might say. “How are you, Harry?” She aimed those chocolatey eyes on his, and she had that expectant look on her face that made Harry feel guilty with the mere thought of lying to her.

“Aching,” he answered honestly, taking his eyes away from hers, “I still have nightmares”

“Have you tried—,”

“I have, Hermione,” he exhaled in exasperation, “potions, charms, muggle medications… Even alcohol is not helping”

She gave him concerned look and he closed his eyes. She wounded her arms around him, pulling him into something akin to the maternal hugs Mrs. Weasley gives him sometimes.

“One day the pain will stop,” she said resolutely, “I am sure of it.”

“Yeah, when I die,” he scoffed and Hermione slapped his arm, “Ouch!” he complained, but then sighed and relied on her hug.

***

The third, fourth, fifth, sixth and seventh times happened on Ministry functions in the space of four months.

Harry couldn’t help to follow Malfoy’s every move with his eyes. He watched the way he talked to the ‘important people’, the way his head was always held high and how the man exhaled pride and royalty. He watched the smiles that didn’t reach the cold grey eyes while he flirted around, the way his eyes would divert around the room discreetly when he was faking attention. He watched when Malfoy would give an excuse to whomever he was flirting with, pick up a magic fulfilling glass from the bar and leave the crowded room. 

He also noticed that Malfoy, at least while sober, would never even glance at him. Malfoy averted Harry as if he was the plague itself, only talking to the Gryffindor when his voice was already slurred and his cheeks flushed because of the alcohol.

Harry tried to convince himself that he didn’t mind, that Malfoy did that because he didn’t want anyone to know that he was some sort of alcoholic and because, perhaps, Harry brought bad memories for the blonde.

He did not consider that Malfoy didn’t want to see him because Harry wasn’t enough for him, or he didn’t want to be in Harry’s presence because he was somehow annoying or maybe he was just too  _Gryffindorish_?

Harry did not consider that at all.

At least Malfoy still left the notes, all of them with snarky remarks about Harry’s decor.

***

The eighth time happened on November.

Harry followed Draco Malfoy with his eyes all the time, and was utterly annoyed when he realized the man was too close to a coquettish Justin Finch-Fletchley. He clenched his fists tightly, burying his nails on the heels of his hand, controlling himself not to walk across the room and take that bloody grin away from Malfoy’s face with a punch. Or a kiss.

He did not have to do anything, though, because a very heated Ernie Macmillan showed up and placed his hand on the small of Justin’s back possessively.

He could have kissed Ernie for stopping the flirting contest if he weren’t so focused on Malfoy.

The blonde smiled peacefully at them before heading to the bar, picking up his glass and going away to the dark corridors.

Harry considered leaving the blonde behind, he had too many things to worry about already. He discarded the idea immediately, though, knowing he wouldn’t sleep if he left Malfoy drunk and alone in the Ministry, and decided to go find him. He usually waited half an hour before going to take drunk Malfoy home, but on this day his patience wasn’t at its best capacity.

When Harry reached Malfoy, the blonde was leaning against the wall, holding his glass leisurely with one hand and waving his wand with the other, making green sparkles fly in front of him.

“You should stop drinking,” Harry said seriously, his voice showing a bit of the anger he was feeling.

“And lose your wonderful hospitality?” Malfoy scoffed and Harry huffed.

“I am serious, Malfoy,” the Gryffindor said, “you drink too much”

Malfoy took a long mouthful of his drink, watching in amazement as the firewhiskey reappeared magically inside the glass. He took another swig before turning to look at Harry.

“You should take me home now,” he said, pink cheeks and slurred voice, and reached for Harry’s wrist.

The Gryffindor nodded and apparated inside his bedroom.

“Why is this all so red?” Malfoy asked and sat on the bed, still holding Harry’s wrist, he looked up at the green eyes and smiled softly. “Why not green? I lo-o-ove green,” his smile turned into a smirk and Harry laughed a bit.

“Okay, Malfoy, just take off your shoes and go to sleep,” he said and tried to get out of the blonde’s grasp.

Malfoy didn’t let go.

“Sleep with me,” he said.

Harry widened his eyes, bit his lip and shook his head. Malfoy frowned with disappointment, and he reached out to grasp Harry’s other hand.

“Why not?” he asked.

“I—,” Harry considered lying, but decided on the truth, “I have nightmares,” he admitted in a low voice.

“With me?” Malfoy’s frown deepened.

“No,” Harry sighed, “With the war. Voldemort. The deaths. Everything,” he felt like crying and swallowed when a lump started forming on his throat. “I scream and writhe, it would be awful for you to sleep with me”

Malfoy contemplated him for a while and Harry thought that maybe — just maybe — the blonde wasn’t as drunk as he seemed to be.

“It’s okay,” Malfoy said finally and pulled Harry with him over the bed.

Harry hesitated, but lay down on the bed with the Slytherin. He was quite surprised when he drifted off to sleep as soon as he closed his eyes.

***

Draco woke up in the middle of the night; the body next to him was shaking and groaning.

He propped himself with one elbow, cast a quick Lumos and looked at a sweaty, screeching, crying Harry Potter.

He sighed and held the man’s shoulders, shaking him to consciousness.

Potter growled before opening his frightened eyes and staring at Draco without seeing him. Draco shook him again, and then slapped the man’s cheek half-heartedly. Potter finally focused his eyes at Draco, looking puzzled for a moment before realization dawned on him.

“Sorry,” he mumbled. “I told you”

“It’s okay,” the blonde assured him before laying back down and pulling Potter with him, holding the man in his arms in a warm embrace.

Potter was so tired he didn’t even try to struggle, instead he buried his head on the other man’s neck, wrapping his arms around him and closing his eyes.

“Damn the consequences,” Potter muttered to himself and Draco sighed contently.

***

Draco woke up later with a warm breath caressing his jaw and an even warmer body covering his own. If it weren’t for the sore muscles on his right arm, he would say it was paradise. He tried to move his arm carefully so he wouldn’t wake up the man next to him, but his plans failed.

Potter stirred a bit, then raised his head and stared blankly at Draco.

“Morning, Potter,” he said nonchalantly and pulled his arm from under Potter, stretching it and grimacing with the pins and needles sensation on his muscles.

“Sorry,” the Gryffindor said again and Draco rolled his eyes.

Draco ran his hands through the black untidy hair that reached Potter’s chin, holding back a sigh of delight after realising how soft it was.

“Malfoy?”

“Hmm?” Draco hummed. When he realized that, he stopped the caress and faked a cough, “What?”

Potter stared hesitantly at him, chewing on his lower lip and looking at everywhere but Draco’s eyes.

“What?” he pressed and slid his hands to Potter’s nape to lift his head.

Potter finally looked him in the eye and sighed.

“Why are you still here?”

Draco sat up, making Potter fall on the bed by his side. He stared at the Gryffindor in perplexity before sliding his Malfoy mask back on.

“Do you want me to go?” he asked with a hard voice.

Potter sat up on the bed as well and shook his head.

“I just—,” he fidgeted, “I don’t understand”

Draco’s expression softened a bit and he waited for the other man to continue talking.

“You never even look at me at the functions, yet you never resist when I take you home and you leave the notes…” he huffed and looked up at Draco with a vulnerability that melted his Slytherin heart, “What do you want from me?”

Draco stared at Harry’s lips.

“Do you really want to know what I want?” he asked hoarsely.

Harry nodded, licking his lips and flicking his eyes nervously from Draco’s eyes to his pink, plump mouth.

“You,” Draco finally said and pressed forward, laying atop of Harry in the bed and crashing his lips with Harry’s. He licked his lower lip, and then bit it, earning a gasp that parted those gorgeous lips and opened passage for his probing tongue.

Harry was very responsive and soon one of his hands was under Draco’s shirt, tweaking a nipple while the other intertwined with the blond locks, pulling almost harshly. Draco moaned into the kiss and he fumbled to find the hem of Harry’s shirt. He broke the kiss so he could take it out, but Harry resisted.

“What?” he asked with a frown, “we don’t need to have sex now,” he said with a soft smile, “I just  _really_  want to see your body.”

Harry nodded and removed his shirt. When he put his hands on the waistband of his trousers, Draco’s hand stopped his.

“Let me,” he murmured and Harry nodded numbly.

Draco trailed a hot trek of kisses, licks and sucks from Harry’s collarbone to his lower abdomen. He opened the trousers and slowly slid it out, pressing warm open-mouthed kisses to the Gryffindor’s inner thigh, earning low moans and muffled yelps.

When he finally let Harry wearing only boxers, he gave him a proper and long look.

Harry’s tanned skin was glowing; his hair was making a tousled halo around his head. His eyes were shut tightly and he was biting his lips. Draco ran a hand through his chest, feeling the soft skin and outlining some scars. When Draco’s fingers reached a nasty scar in the shape of a locket in the middle of Harry’s chest, Harry’s eyes snapped open and stared a Draco with something akin to… Fear?

“Shhh,” Draco whispered when Harry opened his mouth to say something. He shifted his hips between Potter’s spread legs, ripping a loud moan out of the plump lips. “That’s better,” he smirked, rubbing his erection against Harry’s once more.

“You...” Harry tried to say, yelping once again when Draco’s lips found his taut nipple and sucked. Hard. “To-o-o muc—  _Oh!_ ” He tugged at Draco’s shirt, while the blonde kept teasing his nipples, “ _Clothes_.” He said at last, panting.

“Oh,” Draco looked at his button-down shirt and sighed, reaching for his wand. With a non-verbal spell, he vanished his clothes, staying only in his boxers. “Another time I’ll strip slowly for you,” he said before Harry could complain.

Harry felt something warm in his chest and smiled fondly.

“Another time?” he asked, lifting his hand to caress Draco’s cheekbones.

Draco felt a blush creep in his cheeks.

“Well, yeah,” he said, and glared at Harry half-heartedly, “after this, you won’t get rid of me, I dare you to even try”

Harry laughed and Draco rubbed their clothed erections once more.

The Gryffindor moaned and looked at Draco’s chest that had some thin, faded scars. He put his hands firmly on Draco’s hips and thrust upward, eliciting a moan, and turned them around, getting on the top and straddling the blonde’s lean hips. Draco glanced at him with a raised eyebrow.

Harry ignored him and traced a finger through the biggest scar that went from Draco’s left shoulder to his right hip. He then leaned in and kissed it.

“Sorry,” he murmured and kissed his chest again. “I am so sorry,” he said again and Draco finally noticed the broken edge in his voice.

Draco thrust his hips upwards, and Harry turned to look at him, his expression showing pain, regret, worshipping, and pleasure and…  _Something else_ , all at the same time.

“It’s okay,” Draco said, wrapping his fingers in Harry’s hair and pulling him downwards so their lips were brushing ever so slightly. “I have more to apologize for,”

Harry shook his head, but before he could reply, Draco deliberately kissed him, stopping this discussion from going further.

***

“Do you think he’s on his way?” Draco asked once again.

Narcissa sighed and exchanged an amused look with her sister.

“He will come, Draco,” Narcissa said.

“I know he will come,” Draco muttered with flushed cheeks, “I am just wondering if he will take too long,” he glanced at the clock. “He’s already five minutes late,”

“Harry’s always late,” Andromeda remarked.

Draco sighed and returned his attention to the baby boy perched in his arms, whose hair was now half-blond, half-black; and his eyes were grey.

“He will come, right, Teddy?” he grinned at the baby.

Teddy gabbled and waved his tiny arms, then wrapped his fingers on a strand of Draco’s hair and pulled softly, smiling toothlessly back at him.

Draco heard the sound of someone flooing in and looked up just in time to see Harry stumbling out of the fireplace in Andromeda’s living room. Harry was wearing an emerald-green jumper with the letter H knitted in red and silver in it, a dark-green beanie, dark-grey trousers and black dragon hide boots.

He kissed Andromeda’s and Narcissa’s cheeks, complimenting them, before sitting on the sofa by Draco’s side.

He looked down at Teddy and grinned. Teddy squealed and his eyes turned emerald-green; Draco reluctantly smiled fondly at that.

“Hey,” Harry said, finally looking at Draco with a warm look. “Merry Christmas,”

“Merry Christmas,” Draco leaned in for a quick peck on the lips.

“You look good,” Harry said, reaching for Draco’s free hand and intertwining their fingers. Harry’s hand was cold, but the blond couldn’t help the warmth that spread through his body as their skin met.

“Thanks,” Draco said, squeezing Harry’s hand. “You look good too”

Harry smiled and leaned in for another peck on the lips, but this time Teddy, who was squirming excitedly in Draco’s arm, stopped him. He ended up kissing Teddy’s ear. Teddy squealed in delight and clapped his hands.

Draco and Harry looked at each other and laughed. Then there was a flash. They looked up to Narcissa and Andromeda’s pleased gazes. Andromeda, who was with the camera, took another picture of them before urging them to start the supper.

***

During the whole night, Harry and Draco took turns while taking care of Teddy while Narcissa and Andromeda watched them with knowing looks.

“I’d like to be a stay-at-home dad,” Draco said when they were taking an asleep Teddy to the nursery. “I know it’s weird, but I always wanted to be a dad,”

“Oh,” Harry said, not knowing exactly what to say or where this conversation was going. He carefully put Teddy on his crib before turning to look at Draco.

Draco’s cheeks were coloured a beautiful pink. Harry smiled and took his hand, leading them out of the nursery. Harry then entered the guest room, where they would be sleeping this night, and sat on the bed, urging Draco to do the same.

“Tell me more about wanting to be a dad,” Harry smiled softly.

“I want to have your kids,” Draco admitted. “I want to be with you for the long run,” his cheeks flushed.

“So do I,” Harry put his hand on Draco’s cheek. “You’re so cute,”

Draco huffed.

“How many kids do you want to have?” Harry asked.

“Two, three, four…” Draco said and Harry raised an amused eyebrow.

“So you’re telling me you want to be a Weasley?”

Draco tried to snort but ended up smiling.

“I like children, and Grimmauld Place is too big for just the two of us,”

“We are going to live in Grimmauld Place?” Harry asked, raising both eyebrows now.

Draco flushed; maybe talking about living together was a bit too much?

“It's big,” he coyly said, “I imagined you’d like to raise a family there,”

“What else have you imagined?” Harry asked and now Draco’s face was beet red. “Tell me,” Harry planted a chaste kiss on the blond’s lips. “I really want to know,” he said earnestly and held Draco’s hand.

“I imagined that we would first have two kids, a boy and a girl, and name them after your parents,” Draco said. “And then have two more and name them after a constellation or a star.”

“What names have you thought about?”

“Scorpius, for a boy” Draco said, “I love it, it’s strong, fierce,” he smiled. “Lyra, for a girl,”

They lay down on the bed and Draco snuggled his face on Harry’s neck and hugged his midsection. Harry hugged him back.

“James, Lily, Scorpius and Lyra,” Harry smiled, carding his fingers through soft blond hair, “I like it,”

Draco pressed his forehead against Harry’s, breathing in the citric scent that emanated from the other man.

“Maybe all of them will go to Slytherin,” Draco smirked and Harry huffed. “Could you imagine how fun it would be?”

“The Slytherin Potter-Malfoys,” Harry mused, then rolled his eyes. “I don’t think they will all go to Slytherin,” he said.

“One of them will be,” Draco said. “I bet it’ll be Scorpius,”

Harry laughed.

“You do realise they’re not even born?” Harry said.

Draco rolled his eyes.

“I bet James goes to Gryffindor,” Draco said and Harry nodded absently. “If Lily goes to Hufflepuff and Lyra to Ravenclaw we will have the whole pack,” he sighed. “And then there’s Teddy,”

“What about Teddy?” Harry asked.

“He is our godson,”

“Our?” Harry smiled in spite of himself and Draco huffed.

“Well, considering we will be together forever, then, yes,” Draco muttered.

“Right, so what about Teddy?”

“He will visit us weekly,”

“That’s nice,”

“He may even come live with us,” Draco said, fiddling with the hem of Harry’s jumper.

“You think so?”

Draco nodded.

“So then we will have five kids,” the blond said. “Of course Grimmauld Place would be in better conditions by then,”

“Or maybe we could move out of Grimmauld Place,” Harry said. “Move in to a better, cosier place,”

“Yeah,” Draco said, “that’d be better.”

“So you’ll move in with me?” Harry asked, looking intently into Draco’s eyes.

The blond licked his lips and nodded.

“As soon as you want me to,” he said.

Harry grinned, caressing Draco’s cheekbones with his thumb.

“We can start house-hunting after New Years’, is that okay?”

“Yeah,” Draco agreed. “I’d like that,” he slid his fingers in Harry’s jumper and shirt, caressing the soft skin there.

Harry gave Draco an Eskimo kiss, then leaned in and kissed him properly, passionately, his hands holding Draco’s face as if he were the most precious person in the world. And right there, for Harry, he was.

* * *

  **TWENTY-FIVE YEARS LATER**

“Teddy is coming in later for dinner; he says he’s got great news!” Draco was grinning at the letter in his hands. “He is bringing Victoire,”

“Do you think he proposed?” Harry asked, while signing off some paperwork.

Draco walked around his chair and put his hands on Harry’s shoulders, kneading the muscles under the shirt.

“I think so,” Draco answered, pressing a kiss to Harry’s hair. “The kids also sent us a letter,” he paused, “I haven’t opened it yet,”

“What do you think it says?”

“Probably where Scorpius was sorted into,” Draco said. “I think it was Slytherin.”

Harry laughed.

“If it’s Slytherin then we will have the whole pack,” Harry said, fondly recalling their first conversation. “I actually didn’t think it would be possible”

“You should, you know I’m always right,” Draco said, stroking the junction of Harry’s neck and shoulders, and Harry snorted.

Draco took his hands to the back of the chair and turned it so that he could face Harry. Before Harry could protest, Draco climbed on the chair and straddled his lap.

Harry sighed and wrapped his arms in Draco’s neck.

“I have work to do,” he said.

“It’s Saturday,” Draco whined. “You can do it tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow is Sunday,” Harry said. “We have lunch at the Burrow,”

Draco huffed.

“I will help you finish your work,” he promised. “Let’s just celebrate the fact that we have the house for ourselves,” he shifted his hips and leaned in to kiss Harry’s mouth.

Harry complied.

“I love you,” he whispered after the kiss. “And I know you’re doing that because you feel sad,” he held Draco’s face in his hands, caressing the protruding cheekbones.

Draco pouted.

“I am  _not_!”

“Yes, you are,” Harry smirked fondly. “I know your sneaky tactics, Mr. Potter-Malfoy,” he gave a quick peck on Draco’s jutted lip. “You can’t lure me to sex every time you feel sad,” he admonished, “you can talk to me, you  _should_  talk to me”

Draco’s eyes started to water and Harry pressed their foreheads together.

“I know,” Draco said, “It’s just that…” a tear escaped his left eye. “They grew so fast,”

“I know,” Harry said, looking into sad grey eyes. “I feel sad too,”

Draco sobbed.

“I hate crying,” he snorted and reluctant tears fell from his eyes.

“Oh, I know,” Harry laughed. “I do too,” Draco looked into his eyes and realised that Harry was on the verge of crying.

“Look at us, two old men crying over their children,” Draco said. “Ronald and George would have a field day if they saw us like this.”

Harry laughed, letting some of his tears fall.

“I miss them,” Draco admitted. “In a few years they’ll be out and about, away from us”

“They are growing, but they’ll be okay,” Harry said. “And they’ll still need us for some stuff, come on, James is still eighteen, he  _cannot_  be independent,”

Draco laughed and sniffed.

“The way you spoiled him, he probably can’t,” Draco deadpanned and Harry raised his eyebrows.

“I spoiled him?” Harry asked, sounding offended. “Right, I was the one who gave him a Hippogriff when he was fourteen only because he said they were nice,”

“Hey!” Draco huffed, snickering. “Ronniekins is  _our family’s_  pet, not just James’!”

“Right,” Harry snorted. “Poor Ron,” he said, shaking his head with amusement.

“Poor  _him_?” Draco sounded affronted. “His daughter’s ferret is named  _Draconis_!”

Harry cackled at that.

“Well, you did name our Hippogriff  _Ronniekins_ , and our dog  _Wazlib_ ,”

“Wazlib is a great dog name, thank you very much” Draco replied haughtily and Harry kissed him.

“Right, now getting back to the main topic,” the Gryffindor said, taking a deep breath. “Our kids will be okay. Soon they’ll all be back for Christmas and you’ll be complaining about us not having time nor space to have sex”

Draco laughed and nuzzled Harry’s neck, pressing hot open-mouthed kisses along the line of his throat.

“We will be okay too,” Harry said and lowered one of his hands to Draco’s hip. “We have each other,” he kissed Draco’s cheek. “We will always have each other,”

“I love you,” Draco said before claiming Harry’s mouth.

They kissed slowly, savouring each other, revelling in the familiar sensations of their lips moving against each other and their tongues teasing, licking, caressing. They kissed again, and again, and again.

“Let’s read the letter,” Draco breathlessly said and got up when they parted after this long session of snogging. He offered Harry his hand and licked his reddened lips as he saw the matching bulge in Harry’s trousers. “Then we will spend the day in bed,”

Harry rolled his eyes, but took Draco’s hand and followed him to their room. They sat at the bed and Draco opened the envelope.

“There’s a picture,” Draco said, smiling lovingly as he looked at it. Harry hugged him and put his head on Draco’s shoulders to look at the picture.

There were five people on the picture. James Sirius Potter-Malfoy, the tall, grey-eyed, black-haired and slightly tanned seventh-year Gryffindor heartthrob. Lily Alnilam Potter-Malfoy, not as tall as her brother, fifth-year Ravenclaw, was as tanned as Harry, had clear-brown eyes hidden by pointy glasses and had short, wavy, gleaming blonde hair. Lyra Luna Potter-Malfoy, third-year Hufflepuff, as tall as her sister and as tanned as her brother, had piercing green eyes and had long, straight, dark-blonde hair. Scorpius Fleamont Potter-Malfoy, first-year Slytherin, had sleek white-blond hair, bright green eyes and a pale complexion. Rose Weasley, first-year Slytherin, had straight red-brown hair, blue eyes and clear skin.

Draco’s eyes were watering at the sight of his children. James was waving and ruffling Scorpius’ hair. Scorpius was smiling nonetheless while hugging the shoulders of a frightened-looking Rose. Lily and Lyra were waving and laughing.

“Ron is going to have a heart-attack,” Harry said after a while, his voice thick with emotion. "Pansy will be thrilled, though," he laughed.

Draco snorted a chuckle before dropping the picture and the envelope and pouncing Harry.

He kissed Harry messily, but still hotly. Their tears mingled in the kissing, their hands hurried taking off the clothes, their hips grinded and their bodies were flaring with want.

When they got naked and panting, they slowed their motions. They made deliberate, hot, sweet love. They knew each other’s bodies so well, and they had plenty of time to apply this knowledge.

“To think we got together because of your alcoholic issues,” Harry said, holding Draco’s face in his hands — he loved to do that. “Your  _fake_  alcoholic issues,”

Draco laughed, his face flushed from the lovemaking.

“I had to make you take me home somehow,” he said, “not my fault you never got the cue”

“You always left on the mornings,” Harry pouted. “How was I supposed to know you wanted to go out with me?”

“I left several notes,” Draco said. “I thought sometime you’d get the hint,” Harry shrugged. “Gosh, you’re so thick!”

“And you like that,” Harry smirked and Draco leaned in for a quick kiss.

“I  _love_  that,” he smirked devilishly and Harry’s cock twitched against his thigh. “I also love your stamina,” he said.

Harry laughed.

“I love you,” he said, pressing their foreheads together while making lazy circles with his thumb on Draco’s cheeks.

“I love you too,” the blond whispered, closing his eyes.

Harry smiled, leaning in for a peck on the lips. He was still holding Draco’s face when the blond fell asleep. He loved to do that, to touch those beautiful sharp bones, to gaze at the pink small mouth, the smooth, pale skin, the almost-white eyelashes, and the protruding cheekbones.

Harry always held Draco’s face as if he was one of the most precious people in the world.

 _Now and forever_ , Harry knew,  _he is_.

**Author's Note:**

> Hullo! When I started writing this I had imagined a whole different ending, but in the middle of it I was hit by the Fluff Train and ended up writing this tooth-rotting thing instead.  
> Each one of the kids has star/constellation names, bc I thought it'd be fun to put it.  
> I put 'Ambigous MPreg' bc, yes, Draco said that he wanted to 'have' Harry's kids, but they could have adopted or someone had their children for them, idk, it's up to you. (To me they asked their friends to have the kids: Luna, Hermione, Pansy and even Ginny — Draco was pleased that the one she had did not end up ginger)  
> I really hope you enjoyed it!  
> Kudos and comments are always appreciated! xx


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